Raftel: Redux
by Kanthia
Summary: He has been waiting all his life for this. And now that he has found the end of everything, it is too late to realize that when everything is gone you have nothing. [take two]
1. Revelation

**Raftel: Redux**  
_ /There are some things that can be taken away and never given back_

Here comes the sky raining fire, the sea singing the end, the wind waving goodbye...

* * *

Why _Raftel: Redux_? 

Kanthia loves _Raftel_, but she wrote it a year ago. Which is a long time. And she's gotten a little better since then, so she decided to re-do _Raftel_. Similar storyline, more awesome and hopefully longer. Thanks a million if you did read _Raftel_ because you guys are awesome, and if you haven't than thanks for picking it up now.

Let's lose everything again, shall we?

* * *

**-Revelation-**

He is crying as he opens his eyes and consciousness enters his head.

He is on his back, and the sky is a shade of calming pink and blue overhead. The air smells of peppermint, the sea lifting at his feet is clear and blue and forever. The nightmare black sand tickles the spaces in between his toes; he sings a little bit of a song he doesn't know to it. The cool air, dry and brackish, joins him as it passes over his parched lips. He is thirsty. He is hungry.

He is alive, but something else is missing.

He can taste something salty and horrible in his mouth. He runs a finger along the wetness covering his stomach and tastes it. They taste the same; his stomach, fingers and mouth must be brothers or at least nakama-

Just the thought of the word makes his stomach explode and replace blood with bile. A sob latches onto the place that breaths are born. He rolls onto his side, empties his stomach and stands up slowly. His head is banging around all over the place- he is content on top, but underneath there is something awful, forgotten, untouchable.

It is then that he realizes that his stomach and fingers and mouth are brothers in blood. He looks down to the tattered remains of something red and stares dumbly at the deeper crimson bubbling out from underneath, a long gash over his stomach staining the black sand beneath him. A wave of light-headedness infests his head and whines in his ears.

He turns from staring at the sea, which was so comfortable and so natural. It hadn't given him any answers yet. He was mad at it, but you couldn't stay mad at the sea so he didn't. The sand was singing and he could hear it because it had so much of his crimson on it they were brothers too. The beach is a narrow strip and the sky is candy in simple strings.

Up the beach, when the sand forgets to push and the grass in a thousand pastel blues forgets to stop. The trees open their hands and sway gently, waving their leaves in a refrain for the wind. Eternity is saying something. He isn't listening. He picks up a large, rather dead leaf off of the ground and clumsily wraps it around his waist until it gives into ages and crumbles to stardust.

Stardust is like scars, and scars are where chests are. Chests smell of blood and sweat, and sometimes of sake- it depended if there were fights or sad things that day. And then the sad things would come at night, oh, at night and forever and again and again and again-

If he could have reached the upper, live leaves of the trees he would have been able to end the life of something wonderful to stop his blood from turning the grass a beautiful shade of violet underneath him. But he can't because nobody can stretch their body like rubber; that is less right than millions of hands waving good-bye like the sea and the sky touching and parting all at once.

Halfway between dead and living, he decides to choose a leaf that is the same as him. It shivers as he picks it up and moves it under his crimson-stained vest. Pressing it to his stomach brings the startling pain of foreign objects under the skin that brings spots to his eyes and sucks the air from his lungs. He doesn't mind. It quiets his mind a little and focuses his thought less on what he has forgotten and more on what he doesn't remember.

The sea parts its parched lips and produces a present for him.

His feet walk forever down the beach until it is within his grasp. Somewhere, past the hunger and thirst, he's screaming to not look at it- but that is the person inside of him, and he doesn't listen to people who don't exist. He leans over slowly, minding the clumsily held leaf keeping him alive, and picks it up.

The sands of the sea have started to love it, and he wipes off the offending algae with his thumb while apologizing to it inside his head. It is a piece of a white tree that is badly scratched, broken and splintered but was wonderfully loved and white as an object that nature never made. It is the size of his fist and light as the sun.

It has a message for him.

_All Blue_, it says in fancy black script. His stomach lurches and his brain fires off distress flares. He turns it on one splintered side and finds

_Pirate k-_

Time stops unapologetically. Hell opens up at his feet. Flame licks at his memory and he remembers too much. Instinctively, he reaches up to his head and feels only grimy hair and a broken promise.

_No._

_It's not true-_

The sea offers no pity for the tiny child, vomiting and wailing for what once was and what will never again be.

--

_/revelation_


	2. Remembrance

**-Remembrance-**

_Just a little, little, little too late…_

"Oi, Nami. Are we there yet?"

_And the more he realizes how much he misses it, the more it hurts._

"No, of course not…" she sighed, rolled up the aged map in her hands and tapped him lightly on the back of the head. "Don't worry; Raftel's not going to fly away. There's still an island in between it and us. According to that old man at the Marine base, it's the last one- completely uninhabited, a tiny little speck of land before the hundreds of possible paths up the Grand Line converge to that one last island."

"Oh," said Luffy, neither understanding nor caring. Raftel was sitting just beyond the horizon. He could almost touch the end of everything.

They were standing outside the door to the galley, Nami leaning on the railing and her captain looking towards the future. The day was warm, calm and perfect. The ocean below them mumbled angrily for being disturbed for the first time in decades- serene, it was ruffled only slightly by the perfect cool breeze on a hot day to move the ship of dreams.

"I wonder…" she said.

"Me too," said Luffy.

"No," said Nami. She shook her head; once upon a time, her captain made no sense. Now that they were all older he had started the odd habit of making too much sense. "I wonder what this penultimate island is like. All the Marine base had was one map, and it's really old- after all, nobody's been here for a long time. And the map doesn't even reach Raftel…"

"But then who made the map?" The speaker was Sanji, who appeared out of the galley with a twist of the hips. Nami spread the map out again and held it up.

"Annie, Annie Berruz. She's the second most famous navigator of all time- the only woman in Gold Roger's crew."

"Then who's the most famous, Nami-swan?"

"Me, of course."

* * *

Robin looked up from her book and raised an eyebrow. 

It was titled "The Last Pirate King". She had found it at the Marine Base they had visited only two months ago- a split second on the seas, but an eternity in memory. It was rather interesting, to put it bluntly; she was starting to understand why the only copy still existing was kept locked away in the biggest and last Marine base in the Grand Line…

The author needed a good grammar school, though. She supposed that education wasn't a priority in this age of insanity.

* * *

Nami retired to a lounge chair next to Robin, rolling up the map and tucking it away into her log. Some day, the unspoken thought knew, that log would be the most precious thing in the world. For now it was still a mess of ink blots, sauce stains, torn corners and love. 

"Your midmorning snack, Nami-swan, Robin-chwan." Sanji placed two glasses of something beautifully blue and bubbly on the table between the two of them. They accepted it gratefully; he was in heaven again, but there was a light drizzle up in paradise. Infamy was beginning to take a toll on all of them. His eyes were better than his nakama at tracing the edges of a body and memorizing the sweet pattern of curves- being the most wanted crew on the Grand Line made acquiring food more difficult than first imagined. Even seasoned pirate crews were looking out for the bounty on their heads.

Fresh fruits on uninhabited islands, especially this far into the end of everything, were easy enough to obtain- animals could be killed for meat, water could be boiled and cooled to make it drinkable. But human hands knew human bodies better, and finding food had become arduous lately. He could tell. Even if it was only slight, Nami's clothes hung off her a little more; Robin's hips were a little narrower…

It was a harsher beauty, but beauty nonetheless. Keeping the nutrition of the Straw Hat Pirate Crew at its peak was his job, after all.

He waltzed into the galley to prepare lunch before his captain started yammering.

* * *

Robin sipped and turned a page. 

Oh, this was interesting.

* * *

Luffy was _bored_. 

When Luffy was bored, he was hungry. But Sanji was all ready preparing lunch, so that meant he had to alleviate his boredom before lunch was ready or else something bad would happen.

Nami and Robin were boring at the moment, reading books and shooing him away when he came too close. Sanji was in the galley and Luffy had finally learned that sometimes interrupting him while he was cooking would have a negative effect on the quality of the meal.

That left his doctor, his marksman and his first mate.

Usopp was at the stern of the ship, the product of his work set aside as he watched the horizon they were running away from. He'd been quieter lately, quieter than normal. Luffy supposed it was from the lack of meat and Shanks. There was a sigh heaved.

"Oi, Usopp."

His marksman turned around, and there was a smile on his face. Not the smile of meat, but the smile of nakama. He'd learned how to do it too; it required being happy but being tired at the same time and the sleepiness had to be like when you were tired of being sad.

"Oh, Luffy." He grinned now. "Has Sanji started lunch yet?"

"Yeah." He sat down, next to the kit of bubbling and frothing liquids. Usopp made things good. "Why are you sad?"

The Great Captain Usopp-sama had forgotten that you can never hide anything from the truth.

"Aw, I thought we'd see Shanks by now. I wonder how they're doing. I guess that not everybody wants to be the Pirate King, huh?"

"Everyone does," said Luffy. "'Cause they want to be like me."

That same Great Captain had also forgotten that the truth often means many things at once. He leaned back onto the railing.

"I wonder how my father is doing…"

* * *

Chopper popped out of the galley and caught Robin's peripheral vision. She put down the book and turned gracefully so that her upper body faced him. 

"How did it go, Doctor-san?"

"I don't know," he said. "I don't even know if they got it. I left it at the Marine Base, and hopefully they won't realize it's from a pirate."

"Doctor-san, it doesn't matter if it's from a pirate or not. They'll realize its value, right?" The reindeer was getting old. She could feel it. Time just seemed to go by too fast for little animals.

"Mou." He sat down on the wooden floor beside her, playing with her pant leg. "Hey, Robin."

"Yes, Doctor-san?"

"What happens after your dreams are over?"

* * *

Zoro was training. He had to. It was his job. 

To say he was strong, powerful, the most feared bounty hunter in the East Blue would be a joke- no; these were the days of the Great Master Swordsman Roronoa Zoro. These were the days when the name no longer registered nothing, the days when the name no longer registered fear. These were the days of awe, of legend.

He was eight- no, ten feet tall, the ignorant would say, ten feet tall with long green hair to his waist who conjured swords from air. Those who had the privilege of being one of the few who had seen him fight and lived gave him a more respectable six feet and whispered that the skies cried out from the ends of his swords.

The people who lived with him said that he did none of the sort; that he drank too much alcohol, clanked around at dawn and if you looked hard enough you'd see a weeping but proud little girl in his eyes.

His aloof nature had caught up with him lately. Except to his nakama, he spoke rarely. His training ended being rigorous and became more of something that consumed his time, stealing from the long hours he used to sleep or rest idly. Luffy couldn't really understand.

Zoro still smiled from time to time.

He was at the side of the ship with a weight in each hand, shining like the sky at night and the sea at dawn. Luffy had always been transfixed by his glow. Not the kind of glow that angels had, it was the special kind of glow that Zoro had. Sometimes it dripped and turned into sweat.

"Oi, Zoro."

"Oi, Luffy." He put the weights down with a thud, leaning back on the banister and looking back home into the wind. "What're you doing? Has the Ero-cook started lunch yet?"

"Yeah, he has. Listen."

"What is it?"

"How come you keep training?"

"What do you mean?"

"You beat up Mihawk, right? Why do you keep training?"

Zoro looked deep into Luffy's eyes. His captain all ready knew the answer. "My dream is to be the best swordsman, not to beat Takanami. Besides-" He picked up the weights again, placing a third in his mouth to perform his sacred art. When his mouth was full, he could speak from his heart. "-Besides, dreams are what drive your forward, so dreams are everything you have, right? So-" He leapt, he fell, he flew and Luffy fell into his motion. "-so if you have everything and everything is taken away-"

Oh, this was the deadliest dance.

"-you have nothing."

* * *

The sun was setting when they reached the spit of land. It was the kind of spit of land that was so small and unvisited nobody ever bothered to give it a name; an island living a perpetual autumn that smelled untouched, unloved and asleep. An island prepared for winter that had closed its eyes to hibernate- only spring would never come, and the island would sleep without dreaming and never open its eyes again. 

_Sleep and dream forever._

Nami called a meeting. They huddled together, the world's most unlikely band of seven, to get away from the chill of the wind.

And how unlikely! A man who hunts pirates, a woman who steals from pirates, a man who fears pirates, another man who feeds pirates but never wants to be one, an animal who thinks pirates are kings and kings are pirates and a woman that is cursed by the whole world to suffer in silence. All held by the unbreakable bond that is a child.

"Listen," she said, "I was looking at the Pose. I think- it's going to take six months to set."

There was a stunned silence. Nami slapped Sanji's hand off her backside. "Can't…can't Nami-swan make it go faster?"

"That's impossible, Cook-san."

"Mou, what are we going to do?"

"Don't worry, Chopper! The Great Captain Usopp-sama-"

"Oi, maybe we should start looking for food."

"Hey, the Marimo has a good idea for once."

With the knowledge of their new imprisonment momentarily forgotten, they left the company of one another. Feeling the space in between. It was no longer something they pretended not to notice; once upon a time they were incomplete. Now they were only incomplete without each other.

It was a desperate kind of longing.

Luffy felt a little sad as he explored the island. The sky painted beautiful colours as he explored the forest, or at least what could be called a forest; some trees barren and trees right besides them awash in beautiful reds and golds, Luffy felt himself longing for the comfort of green. He found it rather quickly in the sea of earth. It was almost invisible in the pile of fruit that lay around it, but the fruit was dark purple and the green was a portion of eternity.

Someone once wrote a pile of poetic trash that mentioned, in spun metaphors and similes, that it is possible to become so close to a lover the need for words disappears. They lied; not only lovers develop such a bond. With enough experience, even teenage revolutionaries can.

"Luffy."

"Zoro, do you feel something weird? There's something weird about this island."

"Yeah, now that you mention it-"  
"I feel something, too."

"Go look for it. Nami's making me collect fruit."

"You feel it?"

"Yeah, it's probably treasure. Or something."

"But if it was treasure, Nami would know."  
"Not that kind of treasure."

Luffy understood without understanding. Robin appeared through the foliage with Chopper hovering around her feet, a book in her hand. "Captain-san, there's something strange about this island."

"Ooh! Really? Zoro and I were just-"

"Mou, Robin says there's something in the middle of the island in the mountain up there. You should go look, Luffy."

He pouted. "Why just me?"

"Navigator-san would be angry if more than one person left…" a tiny laugh escaped from the woman, and she covered her mouth. "Captain-san, you should go look. You feel it the strongest."

Whoever wrote that book forgot to mention that close lovers recognize feelings in one another. It comes naturally after a while.

Which resulted, of course, in all seven Straw Hat Pirates trudging up the gentle slope to the centre of the island. There was a certain quality belonging to their captain that made them obey without commands being issued, whether they pretended to not want to or not. Nami was shaking her head and complaining that they had to build shelters, collect food, figure out a way to get off this damned island. Sanji was agreeing with everything she said. Luffy pointed to a pedestal in the middle of the island.

It was round. He pushed aside the branch of a near-dead tree and came to the clearing at its feet. It was tall, almost too tall to be called a pedestal- about twenty feet up with no way to get to the top. The grey stone it was carved from either rock not present on this island or starlight; maybe both.

They gathered around it, smiling with the distant memory of a man, a box, and treasure that was never there.

Once upon a time, Luffy would throw his arms up there without thinking of the consequences. Now he allowed himself to hold the eyes of his archaeologist until she found no danger that could threaten the world's most dangerous pirate's hands.

"Ah!" She turned to the marksman who was peering up at the top with a spyglass. "Marksman-san, do you see that?"

"Yeah," he said. "Luffy, go up there."

His captain did as he was told. He flew like a man getting swords for a new nakama and crested the top like a boy discovering what nakama really meant. His prizes lay before him; they were not empty.

There were two of them.

"Oi, Luffy!" Nami's voice took flight like a phoenix. "What do you see up there?"

The top of the pedestal was small. If he lay across the middle, his fingertips would just be touching one edge and his toes the other. It was as if someone had built it with him in mind, only that would be impossible. He liked things that were impossible.

He picked one of them up and held it over the edge for them to see. A collective breath was held.

"But…where's it to, Luffy?"

"Red Line." He frowned at their burgeoning doubts. "There's another one here. I can't read what the plate says."  
"Bring it down, Captain-san. I'll look at it."

He touched it to pick it up, and as he did he could feel destiny again.

* * *

"L…" 

"Lah- Lahva-"

She paused. Sanji used the pause as an opening- "Robin-chwan, is it too difficult to translate at the moment?"

Robin nodded. "We should take them both to the ship, this one and the Red Line. It's better than nothing."

Chopper looked up at Usopp. "Usopp, who would leave an Eternal Pose to the Red Line on this island?"

Nobody had a good answer.

* * *

Robin didn't understand this. 

She was one of the only people left in this chaos of an Age that could translate the archaic symbols on the Eternal Pose. And the plate was so badly scratched- not weathered by time, but intentionally hidden like a riddle that didn't want to be solved.

It was a Pose that defied what Poses were supposed to be. They were crafted from wood, generally. Wood and small magnetic rock. But this one- unlike its partner and every other Eternal Pose, this one seemed to have been made from some kind of malleable metal that was warm to the touch. It bothered her a little; of course, what was the most unsettling was that something in her book reminded her of this Pose that wasn't a Pose.

The needle shivered a little as it pointed towards the sunset.

* * *

The sun had set as they gathered around their makeshift firepit and enjoyed some roasted Mystery Fruit (naturally, their captain was the one to decide on the name). It had a strange texture to it- nobody could place where it was from except three of the crewmembers who kept quiet about the memories that should never resurface. 

"We've got to make a decision." The offender; the liar who usually told the truth. "There are two things we can do- wait until Nami's Log Pose sets, or follow the strange Pose that Luffy found." Nobody considered the third option because the third option was impossible.

But who would leave a Pose to the Red Line here, of all places?

Why here? Why come all this way and be faced with this choice? Zoro looked down at his hands; they were rough and calloused as ever, but now a smoothness had started to form over everything as though his body was being preserved by itself. Or perhaps he was just getting too used to everything. They couldn't go back to who they were before. The Red Line was as much of a dream as anything was.

He wondered what life was, outside this never-ending dream. There were people out there- people he'd never meet, people he'd never see, looking out to the sea and wondering what the hell the Grand Line was like.

"We're going."

The voice of their captain always rang true. It cleared the thoughts, the doubt, the anything but trust.

"We're following the Pose. Anything's better than waiting, 'cause dreams don't."

* * *

Under the guidance of the soft moon, the ship of dreams pushed out and drifted to sea. The wind no longer took it; the sky and the sea danced together at its feet like starlight liquefied. They kept their eyes on the horizon, wondering why they weren't questioning anything. 

Behind them, rapidly fading, was the island Merry. If there could be another name for this island that was never loved but by them then the idea was stillborn.

There was an excited peace in their hearts. They were on their way; the needle on the Pose towards the Red Line began to spin in slow circles. It was, apparently, broken. Not that they would have considered using it. The skies were singing sweetly as the moon shivered in time with fate.

Zoro picked up a weight, but couldn't concentrate on himself.

Nami sighed and fell back into her deck chair as her eyes fell back to the strange Pose in Robin's hand. It was gravitating and kept distracting her from the work on her lap.

Usopp lost himself in the mikan. The moon was a silvery blonde.

Sanji absentmindedly packed away Mystery Fruit as something inside him told him soon would be the time where dreams and stones collided.

Chopper curled up at Robin's feet and wondered what he was supposed to do.

Luffy was in Nami's room with a marker and a decision.

Robin flipped through the book, desperately looking for a clue. The Pose in her hand defied logic like most extraordinary things did.

_Lava…_

_Lhavo…_

Luffy came out of the galley, holding out the black marker. Nami had picked it up- oh, ages and ages and ages and ages ago- from her old home in Cocoyashi. It was the most beautiful marker in the world.

Somewhere, a little princess was agreeing. She dried her eyes from weeping and looked up into the moon.

Interrupted from her thoughts, Robin looked up from the book and smiled before closing it. Despite the years that went by, the serious expression on her Captain's face saved her from the gates of injustice each and every time. She allowed the distraction despite the distant warning tugging at her chest to figure out where exactly the ship was heading.

He held it out in front of him, the galley door shutting behind him.

"We're gonna write them. Tonight."

"Why?" Sanji came out behind him, while mumbling something about mysteries. "What's so important about tonight?"

"'Cause. We're not going to the Red Line so we're heading to Raftel, so we should write them."

Nami put down her pen. "Luffy, I don't know if that's really possible- I mean, that thing doesn't even look like a Pose."

"It doesn't matter."  
She stared into his eyes. Luffy never believed anything other than the truth. And if the truth was that Raftel was sitting on the horizon, then she was the luckiest girl alive.

Maybe they could all put their dreams aside for a moment to write them down.

Robin put down the strange Pose. It became unimportant; it was like a key and the book was slowly unlocking in her hands.

She was so close…

* * *

Supported by Zoro's gentle shoulders, Chopper clambered up onto the beloved ram. The marker squeaked out his promise to the world. 

"Mou."

Somewhere out there, he hoped the world was listening. They had to be, even though he was no longer a reindeer but a pirate. It would be worth more money to listen than to not.

Starlight on the pink and blue. Don't forget who I am because of what you see.

"My dream is to rid this world of disease of the heart." He smiled a little into the sky. "Even though you can't call a doctor for that." Maybe dreams never went away, they just changed a little. And there would always be plenty of sick hearts to heal.

* * *

There was a little girl crying somewhere for her mother, a poor little girl only six years old as the world changed and the rest of it didn't. And the ice, oh how the ice came! Everywhere, sadness and regret and forgetting. 

"…And I stood alone in the dark."

Without you.

There was the golden nothing within her grasp as her life and her failures came crashing down around her. It was her fate. She killed everything she touched, even the killers.

And what a survival, to live only supported by death. How could one life be so cursed? How could she go on, knowing the pain she was causing?

Her captain had answered that time and time again. Suddenly, she was no longer the little girl in a sea of blue on blue. Now she was the most important woman alive. It gave her a sense of pride she had never experienced before, to beat fate. Here she was at the end and they still loved her.

She knew.

There was knowledge- knowledge that only came from these adventures. There was knowledge that didn't come from a book, and that knowledge was the fickle and rare trait called wisdom. She should know. Her captain had that trait.

And she was so close, too- soon, she would know the True Story of the captains back and back and back. Stories of people and places and events and everything. And to know those stories with these people…

It was the best kind of knowledge in the world.

"My dream is to know the True History."

* * *

He could feel it again. 

As he stood at the head with the marker and the white on navy, he could feel the calling again. Zeff once told him about it- what was it, what was it-

He pulled the cigarette from his mouth and gently broke it in half with the index and middle fingers of his left hand. It was a sense, for sure. Perhaps it was that forgotten sense of adventure that the stupid cooks squelch and the master chefs admire.

"See that?" He pointed with the now-broken cigarette. "That's the future. All Blue is sitting there." Gently, he wrote in curves and caresses like the body of a woman. "…My dream is to find the All Blue."

* * *

He wiped a tear off his cheek. Once upon a time, betrayal meant more than everything. Now there was nothing more important than anything and everything. These were nakama; the more you betrayed them, the closer everything was. 

So many things that he'd seen…so many places, so many people, so many loves and lives and deaths and trees and sky and sea and stars and suns and moons and eternity was within his grasp.

One day, he'd go home and tell Kaya everything.

"My dream is to be a brave- a brave warrior of the sea."

She would laugh until she realized the truth.

And he wouldn't tell one lie.

* * *

And who knows betrayal better? That was her job. That was her life, her soul, the marks etched onto her arms and legs and spirit. It was the only thing that connected her from the past to the present; the future was never bright, but it was always there and it was always pulling her in. 

And so perhaps the future was always a sunrise waiting below a hilltop. That made sense. She was, after all, a logical person.

Somewhere very far away there was a hatless boy standing atop the rubble of a nightmare and screaming her name again. A hand fled to her head- a part of him was left behind that day. A part of all of them was.

Let's all find our way home in the darkness. Let's go home to infinity.

"My dream is to map the entire world."

* * *

They said he was the World's Greatest Swordsman and they were only half right. He was the World's Greatest Living Swordsman. There was still one more opponent for him to beat; the world was not just the living, but those long gone. 

Truthfully, he was an atheist because God would want no swords in heaven.

It didn't matter, of course- in a world of Heaven and Hell he'd end up in the raging flames with the life he'd lead. He didn't mind that much; nobody could take him from his swords except perhaps her. And he'd have to fight her one day when he got bored with this existence.

There was Raftel, there was where dreams ended.

Such a strange name for a strange place. Names didn't really matter- he didn't even remember the name of the place where dreams began. All he remembered was a bumpy-chinned brat, a girl with dusty food, a scared little Marine with lavender hair and an idiot in a straw hat coming to save him. And ropes that hurt his damn wrists. He'd have to thank that stupid daisy-head some day for taking away Kuina long enough for him to decide to become a pirate.

Mihawk was dead. And knowing the perverted bastard, he was probably hitting on Kuina right now. The thought of that old man trying to capture the attention of a girl who couldn't give a damn brought a sad smile to his eyes.

Maybe they were listening in heaven. He sure hoped so- and damn, wouldn't Kuina be proud that he'd almost lived up to their promise. There were a couple of people he had to be there for- she'd have to wait. There were no more words to be said. Fate was smiling.

"My dream is to become the Greatest Swordsman. For all of us."

* * *

These were the summers of his childhood; green, gold, in bleeding unfinished succession. Like the bud, he was open. Unlike the bud he was still green. Unlike the green he was red. And unlike the red he was the most sought-after man in the world. 

I'll be there for you. Just wait and see.

"They told me it was impossible."

Here is Eden again.

"They said to me that I couldn't be a pirate 'cause I can't swim. They said that I'd die, that I'd lose, that they'd beat me up and chop off my head and no lightning was gonna save me this time."

The lightning comes from the sky, no?

"But they all lost to us."

There was a sound gathering in their throats like no sound ever heard before.

"I kicked all of their asses, so I guess…"

His nakama knew what was coming.

"…There's nobody left to pretend that I can't. My dream is to become the Pirate King!"

They cheered.

* * *

Robin's eyes, lost in her captain's face, understood. 

Her captain was the secret. He was a Pirate King, but at the same time he was a child. Backwards. Things in reverse, turn around and around and suddenly you're back to where you started. Circles. The world is round, flat, the Grand Line is a circle around the globe.

"No…"

Her heart racing, she picked up the book and flipped furiously through it. She had missed something. Interpreted something wrong. Cook-san was asking her if something was wrong. The moon was starting to sing in minor keys, here comes the wind, here comes the end.

The Pose! The Pose! What was that plate- Lhav- Lavter- flip the page- the last page, the last page-

…_And so point, my children, your eyes to the island where my dreams have ended and your dreams begin. No more will you smile, but the end of dreams is the end of all._

_For if you make it amongst the living, I have taken your everything and there is only one piece of you left._

_Here, children, is Lhavteru the Island of Broken Dreams._

_- Roger_

They were pointed to Raftel. They were going to die.

* * *

_/remembrance_

* * *

.  
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/kora notes:

_Man_ this took a while to write. It's the freaking longest single chapter work I've ever written- almost five thousand words and fourteen pages long. So for that I'm a little sorry, heh.

To read some In The Progress Of... notes, check out http (colon) (slash slash) kanthia. livejournal . com /8357.html. They're not too great, but that's okay. They're from April 21 because I'm a slow person. Thanks for reading. Now drop a review before I plant flowers on you, or something almost as awesome. And please excuse me while I go back to Fire Emblem and watching Pent own those Nabata bandits...

/kanthia notes:

Mou! This was totally hard to write- it took Kanthia at least two pitas today to get through it (Kanthia really loves her pitas). It makes Kanthia proud, though! Super super proud, like SUPAA POWAA! Thanks to all your guys and your reviews. Kanthia loves you all, and she gives you many Internets Flowers.

This chapter goes out to Digi-sencho who just finished the awesomeosity that is _Dominoes_, to all of Kanthia's nakamas on the Boards especially Christy-san and Kaya-san and Duo-san and Digi-san who keep Kanthia up at night when she's Kora to work on Raftel, to Leah and Raymond and Ben and Winnie who are awesome and extras to Leon and Samma and Kira and Brandon who inspired the first Raftel. You guys will always be a part of Kanthia, no matter what.

* * *

And now, as a special gift for reading this, a **SUPAA ALTERNATE ENDING! **

_Here, children, is Lhavteru the Island of TVY7.  
_

_- Roger_

They were pointed to Raftel. They were going to go to the hospital.  
"Gosh darn it," said Zoro as his R fell overboard again.

/Kanthia


	3. Redefinition

**-Redefinition-**

He is dying.

The sea smiles unapologetically like a friend that stops caring at the time you need it most. Its waves fall forever, its hands scraping at the beach. It keeps him awake. What do you do, you sea, that you always pull at the shore yet never make it to dry land? You hands, you scrape like nails, you arms that never tire?

Three days fall to three nights on a lonely patch of grass watching the lonelier sea. The sand is black, the sky too pink, the trees an unnatural shade of blue. He forgets his colours; all he can do is remember. There soon comes a point where he is not sure what is memory and what is just wishful thinking, so he gives up and just cries.

He can't cry to bring them back. For the first time in his life, he feels utterly and truly defeated. Lost. Without a direction. There were others who got lost, but that was different than simply having no way to go anymore.

His body is being uncooperative. He tries to tell it that he'd rather starve than die of loneliness but it won't listen. He wonders what it tastes like to die of loneliness.

He supposes he'll find out soon.

Up, up to the place I was before; standing up on the bare feet of a groundless pirate, his head swims and he dangles like a puppet with an unskilled hand to wield it. If he's going to die of loneliness he's going to need to eat, and after he eats he'll explore the island until he can explore no more. Time moves too slowly without anyone to move with you.

The island that dared to defeat him is gently sloping towards its centre, sparsely forested with mostly flat plains and occasional trees. Flat plains give birth to the gentle lacy flowers of wild carrot and onion- when you open your ears, you learn these things. He captures his vegetable prey and enjoys it as much as he cannot with an accompanying side of stank water collected in the depression of an ugly rock.

It leaves the strangest burning sensation in his mouth. He is used to having food that was both nutritious and edible.

He stumbles on towards the apex of the island, willing footfall after painful footwill as if telling his feet to move will give them the strength they lack. There is a circular mountain there, a volcano that spews pink sky and candy clouds; they swirl around it as if the sky has a place to call home.

Perhaps then the sky is not free. Once upon a time someone whispered that to him- birds, the birds are free, but who regrets freedom more than the bird with no olive branch to rest its weary wings? Maybe freedom is having a home to come back to. Maybe those with no place to go are lost.

He cries for that which he has lost, tears which eat away at his skin and mind and aching body.

_I_

_I just want it back_

_Give it back to me_

His hand is on his head again, the filthy and knotted mop of hair coated with sand and blood; he recalls a promise long remembered, quickly demolished. He hasn't heard from Shanks in a long time. Maybe the man is dead.

Nobody is dead.

He has no memory of them dying. Zoro would be mad if he found out that Luffy ate all the starfish. Maybe Nami had fun, too, when she was falling from the sky. He laughs and the laughs turn to coughs and the coughs to retches and he wonders if he's dead yet. He turns to the sea with nothing to say. The sea and the sky compete for attention.

He's never felt this kind of loneliness, and it's a feeling he'll never forget once he gets out of here and wakes up and everyone laughs at him for being so dumb as to think they could die.

_I'm sorry Shanks_

_I promised…_

_I promised I would give it back_

_Shanks…_

_You said_

_Hey_

_You told me you'd be there for me_

_At the end_

_One day_

_I'm a great pirate now_

_Where are you_

_Where is everyone_

_You all promised me_

_You'd be here at the end_

_You promised…_

"YOU PROMISED ME!"

* * *

He's been in many caves before, and yet they still give him the strangest feeling of forgetfulness. Of hurt, the kind of hurt that everybody tries to heal yet no-one tries enough to. The roots hanging from nature's ceiling tickle his face and cry for the water he has not; oh, you flowers that try too hard, you push for your life until you reach the pits of Hell. 

Come, then. He takes the lost roots and snaps them off their hosts in a gesture that is neither kind nor cruel. There is an old song playing on the air; he heard it once, a long time ago, from a woman he knows well enough to have forgotten.

_Remember_

_I will still be here_

_As long as you hold me_

_In your memory_

Remembering shines on his face forever and he supposes there will come a time when he has no energy and can remember no more. Until then, he pushes deeper into the tiny cave set into the circular mountain in the middle of the island at the end of his world.

And the song continues no matter how much he asks it to stop, because he can't muster the energy to be polite.

With a sigh he considers his own stupidity. Those roots he cast aside- they could be food if he was just a bit more dying. Dying here. Dying at the end of the world, where only edges of maps wait to consume you.

Don't throw away your roots. You just might end up dead with nothing to hold you back.

The path he snakes through is long, boring, and reminds him of dragons thousands of years old who spoke to young girls who whispered. He can smell treasure. The kind that smells of blood and nothing else, the worst kind of money. Nami always cleaned her coins. Zoro always fought. Usopp always lied. Sanji always cooked. Chopper always smiled and Robin always knew-

He screams out, threatening to throw his pale brow into the stone wall of the cavern hall, and the memories dissipate like flies on a battlefield. His worst enemy is his head, and it hurts to be in prison again. After running without memory, he comes out of the tunnel prison into a dome-shaped empty ending.

Gold Roger is dead, and his life is here.

It is as though the centre of the lost island is a volcano that has not eaten for centuries. What should be the blood of the earth was instead a lifetime of the late Pirate King's wealth- mountains and mountains of treasure. Stolen. Lifeless. He can smell the tears of men and women again, his own blood mingling with the scent of gold. Gold smells sad.

And he's back in the galley again. It smells of sweet perfume, ink and aged paper by the table where he waits for dinner; served with a backdrop of exotic spice and clean aftershave. His cook and his compass point towards the lost evening air where the scent of true lies and false truth and deadly chemicals mixes with fur and sweat and love on an island that was too cold to have a heart. On the deck books touch flowers and forgotten regrets like a woman too young and too old. Ah, and at night when the nightmares came again he would grip the hammock like he could never let go and find himself in the arms of the sweetest blood and sweat to ever touch a blade. No more nightmares until you all die-

He's crying, canyons of emotion reverberating off the dome walls. The memories are the only things alive now and they are killing everything but the last Pirate King's useless treasure. Gold, silver, blood and tears. He shouldn't be here. He should be back home on his way to the place where his dreams began- where the sunrise forgot, where he walked up and down on the edge of the water and the edge of land and the edge of reason.

_I_

_I just want it back_

He can't ever leave this place- can't sail away without a ship, but it doesn't matter because he doesn't have nakama to complete the circle in the first place. No laughing. No singing. No love and happiness and fights and anything.

_Always together, fighting and winning._

_Inseparable. _

_Family._

_One piece of something bigger--_

Everything stops singing for the sweetest moment.

His sobs turn to screams and his stomach heaves again, and all he can do is wail and choke and gasp and sink to his knees on the useless treasure and cry to whatever God missed the moon for what he's lost- his nakama were his One Piece, and here he is at the end of the world with nothing but nothing.

* * *

_/redefinition _

_

* * *

/kanthia notes_

_ha, only like two months late. procrastination wins._

_And now Raftel is that little place in a lot of hearts again, sing forever like the sea. Can we see the end of eternity, where the sky touches the earth? It can only be a reunion, a reunion, coming home to the last place you want to be._


End file.
